


The Cheese Touch

by ephemerzl



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Iwaizumi Hajime, Bisexual Oikawa Tooru, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Oikawa Tooru, Jealousy, Living Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining, Rough Kissing, Suggestive Themes, Tears, good friends (kinda), it's not said but it's there, kagehina if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerzl/pseuds/ephemerzl
Summary: A breathy laugh escapes out of Iwaizumi’s throat, he lifts his head just a bit so that it’s aligned with Oikawa’s ear and not buried in his neck.“Cheese touch,” he says as if it's some obscene secret the two of them will share forever.Iwaizumi then backs off of him, having to fall back onto the couch since Oikawa wasn't moving. He wasn’t doing anything, actually. He was just standing there, face red and mouth slightly agape. His arms were even still held in the air, since he hadn’t lowered them when Iwaizumi left his hold.orHanamaki and Matsukawa demand the starting of a week-long game of the cheese touch. No one thought that the game would bring out so many feelings.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 116





	The Cheese Touch

**Author's Note:**

> First iwaoi fic! I've had this idea for SO MANY MONTHS and it was originally going to be a CRACK FIC. Then I started writing and it turned into ANGST,,, but I liked how it turned out (to a certain extent since I can never bring myself to love what I write).

In the beginning, the group chat was just their high school volleyball team. It was there for Oikawa to send texts that announced practice times, canceled practices, or just information on games (all with one too many emoticons). Then, once Matsukawa and Hanamaki realized they finally had _both_ Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s number, they made _another_ group chat, with just the four of them. 

Somehow, in their first year of university, the group chat is still up and running. That puts them at today, the day Iwaizumi’s perfect Sunday afternoon went to shit.

**Mattsun:**

hey

me n makki just watched that one movie 

**Iwaizumi:**

What movie?

**Makki:**

diary of a shitty bitch

**Oikawa:**

you mean wimpy kid

**Makki:**

no i dont think i do 

**Iwaizumi:**

What’s your point

**Mattsun:**

we r gonna start the cheese touch game

**Oikawa:**

fun! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**Makki:**

**@** iwaizumi u will b playing!! dont even try to get out of this one!!!

rules, game goes for a week, loser buys dinner for the winners, also you have to send photo proof of you passing the cheese touch in this very group chat 

After reading rules that _Hanamaki_ took the time to come up with, Iwaizumi knew he was serious about this. This means since he was, so was Matsukawa, which _then_ means he was fucked and there was no getting out of this. Sure, he could just simply _not play._ After a few ignored touches the group would get tired of the game stopping on his behalf, and they’d continue without him. 

Except, no, they wouldn’t, they’d probably let him keep the touch for a week and then Iwaizumi would have to use his savings to buy them dinner. 

Fuck, he needed a job. 

His phone pinged again, it was Oikawa — and Iwaizumi hated that his heart jumped at his name appearing on the screen. Not more than the fact that he had a crush on his best friend, of course, but still. 

**Oikawa:**

who starts the game? it should be iwa lol 

So, naturally, he answered with: 

**Iwaizumi:**

Fuck you, eat shit and die.

And he got Oikawa’s, “Mean, Iwa, mean!” text at the same time he got a separate text from Matsukawa, from outside the group chat. 

**Mattsun:**

you know, usually when one person likes another they try to woo them! not tell them to “eat shit and die”

is this something you werent aware of…?

Iwaizumi didn’t answer. 

In the end, they take Oikawa’s suggestion and Iwaizumi is stuck with having to be the first to rid himself of the touch. He shouldn’t be complaining because he knows how easy it’ll be, but being angry about what he _has to do_ is easier than admitting to himself that he has an excuse to touch Oikawa in ways he usually wouldn’t.

After classes he picks up dinner for himself and Oikawa, catches a train back to their apartment, and as soon as he walks into his usual joyful greeting of _hey, Iwa,_ he sets the food down on the counter with the biggest sigh he can get out. 

He swears he could practically see Oikawa’s ears perk up like dogs. 

“Iwa?” Oikawa asks quickly, “Everything okay?” Iwaizumi just shrugs, so Oikawa tries again, “Did something happen? Is it the game? If you really don’t want to play I’ll make them call it off, promise,” he says eagerly, staring into Iwaizumi’s eyes so intensely that it almost makes him feel bad. 

_Almost._

“It’s…” Iwaizumi pauses, then shakes his head, even going as far as to walk over to the sofa with a frown. “nothing. It’s nothing, nevermind.” Shit! He should be an actor, seriously!

Oikawa frowns, “Iwaizumi, you know you can tell me. Is it job searching? I can get you a job just fine, all you have to do is ask!” 

“It’s nothing, Oikawa.” Things are quiet for a moment, then Oikawa begins walking over to Iwaizumi, who is leaning against the back of their sofa with his head in his hand. 

“Hajime…” Oikawa starts slowly, and Iwaizumi decides he can’t take it any further; letting this trick run on would only make the outcome worse, for him and for Oikawa. 

He grabs the hand that Oikawa was cautiously extending to him as he walked over and pulls him into a hug. The surprise gives Iwaizumi time to open his phone camera and snap a picture. He quickly sends the photo in the correct group chat just as Hanamaki told them to. 

“Hajime? What,” Oikawa pauses, his breath quickened ever since Iwaizumi touched his skin, “what are you doing?” He quickly adds, “Not that I mind?” A breathy laugh escapes out of Iwaizumi’s throat, he lifts his head just a bit so that it’s aligned with Oikawa’s ear and not buried in his neck. 

“Cheese touch,” he says as if it's some obscene secret the two of them will share forever.

Iwaizumi then backs off of him, having to fall back onto the couch since Oikawa wasn't moving. He wasn’t doing anything, actually. He was just standing there, face red and mouth slightly agape. His arms were even still held in the air, since he hadn’t lowered them when Iwaizumi left his hold.

“You…!” Oikawa struggles with his words for a moment, and then, “Fucking hell, let’s just eat. You’re lucky I’m too impressed by your acting skills to chase you around the apartment and give _you_ the cheese touch.”

So he _is_ a good actor!

The next day is simple. Oikawa gives the cheese touch to Hanamaki, who made a show in the booth of a coffee shop by kissing Matsukawa and giving him the cheese touch.

They did that for a few minutes. They’d break apart, faking an, _aw man, I have the touch now!_ Then they’d just kiss again, and they’d take a picture each time. The group chat was flooded with the blurry images of slow kisses.

After the scene, Matsukawa was left with it. He gave it back to Oikawa the next morning by slapping his knee, the bad one. He somehow got a picture of the moment even though he did it mid-run, and Oikawa was too distracted by the surge of pain to run after him. 

Iwaizumi got the touch by insisting Oikawa hold himself up on Iwaizumi. Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi’s kind behavior and _still_ decided to take a picture and send it to the group.

That brought them to Tuesday, or day three, of their game. When Tuesday afternoon rolled around, though, Iwaizumi gave the touch back to Matsukawa by slapping him over the head as hard as possible, and then to get his picture, he held his head down with force. 

Hanamaki ran towards them as soon as it happened, screeching, “Boyfriend abuse! You’re abusing my boyfriend!”

“Can’t be labeled as boyfriend abuse if he’s not _my_ boyfriend. It’s only assault,” Iwaizumi scoffed as he sent the picture to their group chat.

Hanamaki sat on the couch next to Matsukawa, hugging him tightly and not even considering how Matsukawa just had to snap a picture to rid himself of the touch. 

“Keep it up, man, I’ll assault your boyfriend!” Hanamaki declared. 

Iwaizumi asked _what boyfriend_ the same time Oikawa, who had his hair clipped back with a green spread on his face, had said it.

Hanamaki smiled, “No one!”

Oikawa glanced between them all before heading back into the bathroom.

Matsukawa laughed quietly, “You could just tell him,” he says, not even checking if anyone is paying attention to him, not even bothering to lower his voice. Fuck, Oikawa could probably hear him. 

“Fuck off,” Iwaizumi says instead of _I can’t bear to lose him over stupid feelings._ He says _fuck off_ because it’s the only thing he can say that ends the conversation while also not revealing his affections to Oikawa, who is _definitely_ listening in the other room.

“Hurry up, Oikawa! We want to eat the food while it’s still hot!” he calls out, huffing out a short laugh when he hears Oikawa drop something because he must have been trying too hard to listen in for hushed voices that he didn’t expect such a loud one to call out for him.

He comes out a second later, pouting, like a child. 

“Iwa,” he drags it out, “can we cuddle?”

“Yeah, _Iwa,_ can we?” Hanamaki mocks. Matsukawa follows with, _oh, can we, can we?!_

Oikawa glares at the both of them, “Iwa, I don’t even have the touch, please?” he begs.

Before Iwaizumi can give into those soft, brown eyes, Matsukawa stands up and puts his arm around Oikawa’s shoulder, shouting, _pose for Mai!_

He poses. 

“Thanks, Oikawa,” Matsukawa says before snapping his fingers, “Oh, by the way, I don’t have Mai’s number, you have the cheese touch, and Iwaizumi is glaring _daggers_ at you.”

“Asshole, I was so close to getting to sit in Iwa’s lap and you know it.” Oikawa slumps on the chair, sticking his tongue out when Matsukawa says, _were you really, though?_ Across the room from Oikawa, Iwaizumi pulls out his phone and laughs at a text he had gotten from his mother a few minutes ago. 

Oikawa sits up a bit, “Who are you texting?”

“My mom,” Iwaizumi says after hesitating. 

“Yeah right, come on, Iwa. Who is it?”

“My mom?” He says again, squinting his eyes.

“Let me see then!”

“No?” Iwaizumi gets up, heading to the bathroom.

“If it was just your mom, you’d show me!” Oikawa calls after him.

“No, I wouldn’t!” He calls back.

When he gets back, Oikawa is gone. Which, what the fuck, for one. He had only been in the bathroom for a few minutes. 

Still, his shoes, his coat, his stupid lingering smell of cologne that Iwaizumi can’t ever get enough of — all gone. Did he honestly think that little of Iwaizumi? They’d agreed to this night. Just the four of them, just relaxing and having fun. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. 

“Where’d he go?” he asks the quiet room. What would it be this time? _He threw a hissy-fit and left,_ or, _one text from a girl made him forget you ever existed and he left._ Was he doing something _wrong?_ He’s trying so hard to conceal his feelings so he can _keep_ Oikawa, even if it’s just as a friend, but was it not enough?

Hanamaki starts to answer, but Matsukawa slaps a hand over his mouth and answers for him, “Just out. Said he wasn’t hungry.”

Iwaizumi purses his lips, “Where?” he asks, just a bit quieter. 

Matsukawa sighs, weak to the look of exhaustion covering Iwaizumi’s face. “He got a text from a girl he met on campus last week and fled.”

Iwaizumi laughs sourly, he looks around the room, searching for nothing in particular but not wanting to catch the look of pity in his friends’ eyes. 

“Now do you see why I didn’t tell him?” _Tell him I like him, tell him I might be in love with him?_

Neither Hanamaki nor Matsukawa answer. They just watch as Iwaizumi practically crumbles, it all hitting him at once just how _fucked_ he is. He’s in love with Oikawa, and Oikawa is in love with any girl who is in love with him.

They get drunk. 

Well, Iwaizumi gets drunk. After the weekly realization of his dead-end crush on his childhood best friend, he raids the fridge, finding any and all alcohol he or Oikawa has left in there and drinking it. Drinking it, chugging it, throwing it up.

Once Iwaizumi is tired out on the couch, Hanamaki and Mastukawa are saying that they need to go home. To whom, Iwaizumi doesn’t know, but he does know that the door opens, shuts, people are whisper-yelling at each other, then the door opens again, and shuts again. He sits up. 

“‘Kawa?” he slurs out, “Where did you go? I wanted to eat dinner with you, stupid.”

The blurry version of Oikawa smiles at him, even with his lip quivering and his hair a mess. Did Matsukawa or Hanamaki yell at him? 

“Yeah, I wanted to eat with you too,” Oikawa says like he’s sorry. Is he sorry? “I had to go, though.” He doesn’t seem sorry, not sorry _enough_.

“Why?” Iwaizumi asked, then when he got no answer, he asked, “Why’d you leave me again?” 

Oikawa lets out a sob, and Iwaizumi tries to reach for him but his head hurts too much and he can’t figure out why there are three Oikawa’s in front of him, kneeling next to his spot on the couch, so he ends up just grabbing at air. 

“‘Kawa? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

Oikawa cuts him off with a hug and a hundred muffled _I’m sorry_ ’s into his shoulder. 

The next morning Iwaizumi wakes up to the smell of pancakes and a pain in the back of his neck. The last thing he remembers is Matsukawa pulling a bottle of alcohol from his hand and telling him he needed to slow down. When did they leave? 

“Fuck,” he grumbles, “Oikawa, stop making so much noise.” 

“Stop getting drunk without me!” he yells back, making Iwaizumi wince. He wants to say, _stop leaving me in the middle of the night without reason,_ but he doesn’t. He checks his phone, seeing a picture of himself hugging Oikawa tightly in the group chat. 

**Makki:**

hes clearly drunk in that

**Oikawa:**

no one said anything about the drunkenness of a person canceling out the passing of the touch! 

**Mattsun:**

i hate to admit it but abarham lincoln has a point

**Oikawa:**

fuck you dont call me that

**Makki:**

fuck you dont talk like abarham lincoln

“You seriously gave me the cheese touch? I was drunk!” Iwaizumi calls out, but he’s already devising a plan on how to give it back to Oikawa in the most _fuck you for skipping out on dinner with me to go see a girl_ way. 

“Are you really surprised?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi laughs as he stands up. 

“Nope,” Iwaizumi says with a pop, and then he puts his plan into action. 

Which, come on, a moment of appreciation for the extremely put together plan he created in a few minutes.

He pretends to run into the table placed on the end of the couch. “Fuck!” he screams out, landing onto the floor and making sure the small table falls with him. “Shit, fuck!” he says again when he hits the ground. 

He landed a bit harder than he wanted to, but it's worth it because Oikawa comes running. 

“What happened?!” 

Iwaizumi is gripping his ankle in one hand and his phone, which is opened to the camera app, in the other. “I think I twisted it! Oikawa, it really fucking hurts!” he drops the grip on his ankle and balls up his fist near his head instead, and… 

And Oikawa takes the bait. Faster than he thought he would.

Oikawa looks at his fist and reaches towards it, undoing the tight grip of his fingers and holding his hand instead. Then, just as Oikawa is going to help him up, Iwaizumi takes a picture of their joined hands and laughs loudly. He doesn’t let go, though. 

“Are you fucking serious?!” Oikawa exclaims, but _he_ doesn’t let go either.

“Hey, maybe if you had stayed for dinner last night I wouldn’t feel the need to pass on the cheese touch in such an evil way!” Iwaizumi counters, because he wasn’t going to just let Oikawa off the hook. 

“I—” Oikawa pauses, then his face falls. “I deserve that.” 

“Yeah, you do,” Iwaizumi stands, and pulls Oikawa up with him. “It’s fine though, I’ll leave you for a date the next time we eat dinner together.” _No, he won’t._

“What, with your mystery boyfriend?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi decides to play along. 

“Oh yeah, he plans the best dates.” 

“I could plan a better one,” Oikawa says without missing a beat, “you _know_ I would plan a better one.”

He does know. He fucking _does._ He’s seen Oikawa plan dates, he’s seen the sparkle in his eyes when he gets a good idea for a date out of nowhere, he’s seen the determination to make it happen, and he’s wished that Oikawa was planning for _him._

“Sad thing we aren’t dating then, hm?” Iwaizumi jokes, except he's serious, so serious it hurts. Oikawa doesn’t say anything, just hums. Then, once they’re finally eating breakfast, he looks at Iwaizumi, right in the eyes. 

“What?” Iwaizumi asks, mouth full of chewed pancakes.

“Who _is_ the mystery boyfriend?” he asks. 

“No one?” Iwaizumi says, confused.

A pause. Oikawa stares at him with a stronger look in his eyes even letting them travel across his whole face and then his _whole body_. Iwaizumi feels naked.

“Why won’t you tell me? I heard Mattsun talking about it!” Oikawa complains, keeping his tone within the range of, _I sound like I’m joking so that you can’t actually be mad with me._

“That’s… that’s not what he was talking about.”

“Then what?” Oikawa pushes, keeping his voice at a whine even though he can see the discomfort developing on Iwaizumi’s face.

“Nothing! Why do you need to know?!” Iwaizumi asks, “Why does everything have to be a fight with you?!”

“This isn’t a fight!” Oikawa sits back in his chair.

“So drop it, then! There’s no boyfriend!” 

“No boyfriend?” Oikawa asks.

“None.” Iwaizumi answers. 

“Fine. Good.” Oikawa says, still looking directly into his eyes. 

“Good?” Iwaizumi asks, swallowing his fear. 

“Good,” Oikawa says once more. Then, he rises to his feet, clearing his spot as he says, _I’m off to work, you jobless bum!_

Iwaizumi throws a fork at him, and even when he’s lost in thought about what that conversation meant, he hits Oikawa right in the back of his head.

He watches Oikawa leave, and he can’t help but think that he was jealous. Of what, he has no fucking clue, but he _really_ wanted to find out.

It had to be related to the suspected-boyfriend thing, obviously. Iwaizumi knew that much, and since he knew that much, he knew what he was doing next.

He really was on a roll with his planning and acting. 

When Oikawa got home that night, Iwaizumi was sitting on the couch with his phone in his hand. 

When he heard Oikawa drop his shoes on the rack near the door, he quickly called Matsukawa, whispering, _I owe you!_

“Hey, babe,” Iwaizumi started, pretending not to hear Hanamaki’s offended gasp, and _he doesn’t ever call me babe!_ “Yeah, no I miss you too…” he laughs at nothing, “stop, we’ll meet up soon. You can kiss me all over then,” he puts air quotes around _kiss me all over_ because he knows Oikawa is watching him. “I love you, too,” he says, ignoring the way it makes him squirm, “bye!” 

He hangs up, texting Matsukawa, _I’ll explain later._

“Who was that?” Oikawa asks, emerging from the shadows.

“Oh, uh,” he hesitates purposely, “my mom.”

Oikawa gives him a nasty look and scoffs. He opens his mouth and Iwaizumi hopes the heat of the moment makes him accidentally say what has been bothering him, but it doesn’t. He just snaps his mouth shut and mumbles _I brought home spaghetti, eat it without me, I’m not hungry,_ on his way to his room. 

The door doesn’t slam, and that makes Iwaizumi shudder in fear. 

Whatever, if he has a problem he can come to Iwaizumi and tell him. Maybe if he would stop acting like a child, Iwaizumi wouldn't have pulled that stunt to try and get him to talk. 

Iwaizumi put the spaghetti away, he wasn’t hungry either. 

On the way back to his room, he hesitates at Oikawa’s door. His hand goes up to meet the doorknob, to see if it's locked or if Oikawa is expecting him to come in and tell him everything he wants to know. 

Iwaizumi probably would. 

Tell him, that is. Tell him everything, tell him, _I’m in love with you, and that was Matsukawa on the phone, and I’m in love with you, and I was just pretending to be on the phone with a lover because I want you to tell me what's wrong, and I’m in love with you, and I just need you to talk to me, and I’m in love with you, have been since I was fifteen years old._

The door is locked. 

Sunday night, the last day of their stupid game, finally rolls around. At this point, Iwaizumi doesn’t know who is left with the touch. He doesn’t really care, either, but he needs to find out if it's him, since he does _not_ have the money to cover three pigs eating out because he lost track of a child's game. 

“Pick up, pick up,” Iwaizumi curses at his ringing phone. Then, the line connects. “Yo! Hanamaki, why won’t Mattsun answer his phone, man?”

“He says he’s not talking to you until you clear things up with Oikawa,” Hanamaki answers after a hum.

“What? Oh, come on, tell him to stop being a dick about this,” Iwaizumi taps his foot, ready to pull out his key to Matsukawa’s place and just barge in.

“He also says to go home or he’ll change the locks.”

“Fucking hell! Hand him the phone.”

He does.

“Hello, Hajime,” Matsukawa starts.

“Oh, you’re talking to me now?” Iwaizumi blurts before he can control himself. 

“Well, I won’t be in a minute, you fuck.”

“I’m sorry! Look, what did I do now? Why do I have to talk to ‘Kawa?”

“Because he is currently crying on my couch.”

A pause… and then Iwaizumi hangs up. The door opens, because somehow Matsukawa knew he wanted to come in by just hanging up. 

“Oikawa!” he calls out as soon as he enters, nodding his head to Matsukawa as a silent apology. “Let's go home, yeah? We can watch…” he swallows roughly to try and keep the reluctance out of his voice, “the _alien_ documentary you wanted to watch.”

He hears a sniffle and movement on the couch, “Really?”

“Yeah. Come on,” he holds out his hand, chanting in his head, _grab my hand, give me an excuse to hold your hand, grab it, grab it._

Oikawa grabs it.

He waves goodbye and mouths a _thank you_ to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, but all he gets back are two faces that scream, _this isn’t healthy._

And Iwaizumi knows, _he fucking knows,_ but what else can he do? Confess? Tell Oikawa, _I’m in love with you, in the gay way, not the friend way,_ and then watch as Oikawa frowns and says, _I’ll need to move out, then._

It’s the worst-case scenario, sure, but he couldn’t take the risk. 

He always thought that Oikawa… well, that Oikawa was like a pest. That nothing would get rid of him, that Iwaizumi was stuck with him for the rest of his life. 

Until he was fifteen years old and watching Oikawa kiss a girl senseless in the schoolyard. 

His chest burned when he witnessed it, and for a few weeks, he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he wished it was him being kissed, until Oikawa jokingly grabbed his hand and said, _you’re like my girlfriend, Iwa!_

Then he knew. 

It was jealousy, hatred, it was everything an unrequited love would feel like and more. 

After that, he realized that one wrong move would throw Oikawa out of his life, and he _could not have that._

Iwaizumi was the pest. 

“Why are you frowning?” he hears Oikawa ask from next to him on the train. 

“Why did you go to Mastukawa’s just to sob on the couch?” he asks in return, hoping he wouldn’t answer and then Iwaizumi could pull the, _then I won’t answer either._

“You were quite mean to me the other night, and then you avoided me. That's why.”

Fuck, he was right about that. Iwaizumi thought he’d break at the sight of Oikawa after tricking him, so he made sure he was out of the house whenever Oikawa would be in the house. He was so focused on that, he didn’t even realize days had passed without a word to him.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks.

“You were mean to me, then you wouldn't talk to me, and I didn’t want to mope at home so I moped at Matsukawa’s place. Hanamaki was nice to me. He gave me ice cream.”

“I could have given you ice cream!” Iwaizumi defends, still ignoring the _you were mean to me,_ part.

“You _also_ could have stopped lying to me, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you?”

Damn, he’s good at this. When did Oikawa get so good at questioning him?  
“Fuck, okay. You want me to tell you now or later? This _really_ could ruin the mood for the alien documentary,” _divert the conversation, divert the conversation._

“Shut up and tell me, Iwaizumi.” _Fuck!_

“So, that call last night,” he sighs, “wasn’t really my mom.”

“Oh, you don’t say!” Oikawa interrupts.

“ _But,_ it wasn’t who you think it was either. It wasn’t a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I was telling the truth when I said there was no one.” Oikawa huffs, Iwaizumi continues. “I called Matsukawa, he didn’t even know what was happening. In fact, I _forgot_ to tell him what that was all about, I should—”

“The point, Iwaizumi.” 

“Right! Right, I called him and pretended to be on the phone with a… lover… because you seemed really bothered by the idea of me _having_ one and I wanted to know why.”

“And you couldn't have just asked me?”

“You would have told me?”

“...Right, nevermind then.” 

Silence, and then… 

“You’re not off the hook, either, you know,” Iwaizumi declares.

Oikawa scoffs, “Oh really? You pull a trick on me and I’m still in trouble for seeing a _girl_ instead of hanging out with _you_?” 

_Ouch._

“Fuck you, Oikawa.”

Oikawa bites his lip, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been acting weird. Bailing on dinner is one thing, sure, but why _did_ you get so upset about the phone call?”

“Because you were lying to me!”

“So what? Even if I was lying, you definitely knew the lie would have been me having a boyfriend. Why does it make you so…” he moves his hands around in the air, “so mad? So upset?”

Oikawa opens his mouth but closes it quickly. Iwaizumi continues.

“Plus, I don’t pout or throw a fit each time _you_ get a girlfriend. What’s the big issue with me having one?” 

Luckily for Oikawa, the train reaches their stop. Unluckily for Oikawa, Iwaizumi goes to finish the conversation as soon as they get home.

“So, popcorn or chips, Iwa?” Oikawa asks when he’s taken his coat off and is already walking to the kitchen. Iwaizumi catches up to him and holds him by the arm.

“We aren’t done talking,” Iwaizumi says to him, then before he can stupidly ask _we aren’t?_ in return, Iwazumi keeps talking. “Why does the thought of me having a boyfriend make you so crazy?” 

Oikawa laughs in his face. It’s the playful one, the fake one. The one where he’s about to say some shit like, _you are so silly!_

“Answer the question, Oikawa! I’m done dancing around this! What’s the big fucking issue?!”

“Iwa~ there is no issue!” he's still faking a smile, “If you really want a boyfriend, go out and get one! Here, I’ll help you.”

“Fucking tell me what the issue is, Tooru! Now!” Iwaizumi practically roars, and he can see the way Oikawa’s eyes change emotions, the way his smile drops. 

Oikawa gets close to his face, leaning down as if he were intimidating. Iwaizumi still had his hand wrapped around Oikawa’s bicep.

“You really want to know?” Oikawa asks quietly, anger laced around each word he speaks.

“Yeah, so out with it,” Iwaizumi answers with the same amount of anger, the same kind of eerie quietness.

Oikawa laughs, but it’s husky and dark, and Iwaizumi is ready to start yelling again but then— 

— but then Oikawa kisses him. 

It’s rough, probably because of them both still being irritated with the other, but neither of them makes a move to push the other away. The kiss is enough to get Iwaizumi to take his hand off of Oikawa’s arm and instead wrap it in his hair, letting his other hand do the same, too. 

Iwaizumi is leaning up, pulling Oikawa as close as he can. Oikawa is doing something similar, except he’s leaning down and his hands are moving all over him. On his waist firmly, then his shoulders, then traveling all over his back, then there’s one, and it's placed on his cheek.

They break apart, both heaving with their eyes closed. Oikawa speaks first. 

“That’s why,” he says breathily, and Iwaizumi feels kiss drunk.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks, his eyebrows furrowing. He wants to ask _what_ again when Oikawa gets this _look_ on his face. Fuck, and Iwaizumi knows that look. He’s panicked, he’s going to run away, he’s going to— 

“Cheese touch!” Oikawa says, flinging himself off of Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi who is seeing _red._

“What?” Iwaizumi asks again, his teeth clenched as he gives Oikawa an opportunity to take what he just said _back._

He doesn’t.

“Cheese touch. got you, Iwa,” Oikawa says again, and he says it like he’s _excited._ His face is miserable, but his tone is fucking _excited._

Iwaizumi’s phone buzzes, and it’s an image of them kissing, sent to the group chat by Oikawa. He gets a separate text from Matsukawa almost immediately, asking him, _are you okay? Did he seriously just kiss you to give you the fucking touch, or did you tell him and that’s a real kiss?_

Iwaizumi’s eyes well up, tears threatening to spill, because _holy fucking shit,_ that moment of vulnerability, that moment of fucking kissing and touching and _wanting_ was all thrown in the trash within _seconds._

He looks back up at Oikawa, who is watching him carefully, and he doesn’t have the energy to argue. To ask him if that’s _really_ why they kissed, to try at him for hours, begging him to talk to him. He’s done trying to figure him out. He’s fucking _done._

He walks to the door, Oikawa follows. He grabs his phone, his keys, his coat. He puts his shoes on and before the tears can fall he turns to face Oikawa, “Don’t follow me, don’t text me, don’t call me,” he hesitates, “I _never_ want to see you again.”

Then he’s gone. He’s running down the halls, calling Hanamaki to tell him to come pick him up because he’s the only one with a car, and he’s sobbing. 

Oikawa doesn’t follow him, but Iwaizumi honestly doesn’t know if that's a good thing or not.

The clock strikes twelve, and it’s officially Monday. He’s left with the cheese touch. He’s lost. 

_He’s lost._

Oikawa waits for Iwaizumi to come home.

They’ve fought like this before. One of them storms out, declaring that they never want to see the other again, and usually camps out at Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s place. But they always come back to each other. Whether it takes one hour or one day, they _always_ come back to each other. 

Oikawa has been waiting for two weeks, and he’s starting to get scared. 

Sure, he was a bit frightened in the beginning. The way Iwaizumi didn’t debate with him and the way he said the words _I never want to see you again_ so calmly made Oikawa shiver. But he knew Iwaizumi would be back in the next few hours, or at least he _thought_ he did. 

The first morning after Iwaizumi stormed out, Oikawa didn’t go to class or work. Feeling like he knew Iwaizumi would come back to him wasn’t enough to make him feel better. So, he called out of both, claiming he was sick. Which was easy to do, since his voice was raspy from crying and screaming. 

The next day Hanamaki texted him about the celebratory dinner, the one where the loser would have to pay for the winners. He was told that Iwaizumi was feeling under the weather and had sent them off with his money, but Oikawa saw Matsukawa slip the waitress his card.

Every time he brought up Iwaizumi, he was brushed off. _He’s not feeling well, I’ll tell him you said hello,_ was all he got. 

He fucked up. 

He called out of work so often during those two weeks that his manager said they’d fire him if he didn’t show up; that the only reason he still had his job was the business his pretty face brought in. 

The third night without Iwaizumi was the night he got drunk. He ended up calling Iwaizumi twenty times and texting him forty times. When he woke up he texted again; _sorry, I was drunk,_ instead of _please come back._

He didn’t get an answer. 

The seventh night he got a knock at his apartment door. He jumped to his feet so quickly that if Iwaizumi were there to witness it, he’d yell, _idiot, careful!_

He opened the door to see Matsukawa. He told him that he couldn’t text or call Iwaizumi again, that he had been reading Oikawa’s drunk texts and _crying._ That it was only hurting him. He said that he’d have to wait for Iwaizumi to come around on his own. He made Oikawa promise him that he wouldn’t text, call, or search for him. 

Oikawa agreed. 

He felt like he should have been happy that Iwaizumi was reading his texts, but he only felt more shitty. 

Being the reason for Iwaizumi’s tears made him want to look in a mirror and scream at himself until his head exploded.

The tenth night he got angry. He threw glass plates, he sobbed loudly, he tore the shirt that Iwaizumi said was, _the one that brings out your stupid eyes,_ and then he cried over that shirt, desperately trying to put it back together. He was furious when he saw he couldn’t, and then he screamed about how he had lost his best friend over one kiss. Why had one kiss caused this much destruction?

The voice in the back of his head was there to remind him it was because the kiss packed feelings behind it; Oikawa’s feelings. Oikawa’s feelings of romantic love for his best friend.

He thought that he should stop calling him his best friend. 

The eleventh night brought more crying. The twelfth brought more anger, more wondering why Iwaizumi got the comfort of their friends and Oikawa got _nothing._ Was he that horrible? It was just a kiss. 

Just a fucking kiss. 

The thirteenth night he called Kageyama. Of all fucking people.

He answered quite quickly, and when he did Oikawa couldn’t help but let out a sob. Is that all he does now?

“Oikawa?” Kageyama had voiced after a second.

“Yeah, listen,” he started, “have you ever gotten into a really bad fight with Hinata?”

He felt pathetic. 

After a moment of hesitation, Kageyama answered, “Yes.”

“How did you fix it?”

“I gave him space, but that didn’t do anything for me,” he had laughed after that, “I cornered him like an idiot, got screamed at, and then had to watch him run away again.” He pauses, “But after a bit more time, he came to me, and said he was ready to talk. We talked, we fixed things. It happened on its own, I guess.”

Oikawa reworded his question after that, because what if Iwaizumi didn’t come back? 

“How do _I_ fix it, Kageyama?”

“Trust that he’ll come back.”

Kageyama had stayed on the line after Oikawa started crying even harder, and once Oikawa was done, he said, _he will come back, Oikawa._

It only made him cry more. Damn him.

On the fourteenth morning, he was numb. He had run out of tears, out of sad movies to watch, out of excuses for what he did. He felt stupid. He had fallen apart in the span of two weeks because he felt just a bit neglected. On the fourteenth morning, he took one look at the messy apartment and decided he would sleep instead.

He had snuck into Iwaizumi’s room and stole one of his shirts, forcing it over a couch pillow so he could fall asleep to what he felt was the most comforting smell in the world.

He felt guilty about it, sure, but he also felt like things couldn’t get any worse.

Iwaizumi wasn’t coming back. It was ten in the morning, two weeks after Iwaizumi left with tears in his eyes, and Oikawa was so sure that he’d never see him again. He was so sure that when the doorbell rang, he didn’t move. Even after hearing voices outside his door, he simply stayed in his position on the couch, keeping his head smashed into Iwaizumi’s smell. But then the door opened, and a voice called out:

“Fuck, what a mess. Should I have hired a maid?”

Oikawa sat up as quickly as humanly possible, and he immediately locked eyes with a tired Iwaizumi. He looked just as broken as Oikawa did, maybe even more. Oikawa wanted to hug him, hold him, kiss him better, but he didn’t have the courage. He was worried that if he even moved towards Iwaizumi, he’d disappear. Like a hologram, like a delusion, like a hallucination being produced by Oikawa’s exhausted and lonely mind. 

“Can we talk?” Iwaizumi said, all joking behavior having vanished.

Oikawa willed himself not to cry as he nodded his head.

Iwaizumi offered him a small smile before he ducked his head down, walking to the couch in silence. When Oikawa got a closer look at him — which wasn’t that close, Iwaizumi sat on the other end of the couch — he saw that Iwaizumi’s eye bags had gotten bigger. His lips were chapped and his cheeks were red, probably still from the cold. 

Oikawa felt bad that his first thought was about wanting to kiss him, considering what happened last time he did that. 

“So,” Iwaizumi started, but he kept his eyes on the floor. Oikawa kept his on him. He didn’t want to let him out of his sight. “I wasn’t planning on coming back.”

Oikawa tried not to make a pained noise. 

“After I left, I was planning on having one of them come get my stuff, or distract you long enough so I could get it,” Iwaizumi sighs, “I was going to move out without telling you.”

“But—!” Oikawa starts, but quickly clenches his teeth. He lets Iwaizumi continue.

“I told Matsukawa and Hanamaki about it. They told me to give it a week, and if I still wanted to do it they’d help, but they’d also tell you about it. It wasn’t a deal-breaker or anything at the time, I honestly didn’t care about you knowing, I just wanted out.”

A pause. Oikawa knows he isn’t done, so he stays quiet.

“They were right to make me wait. After a week, I wanted nothing more than to just… see you. I was so crazy; I was getting ready to tell one of them to install cameras in while you were out so that I could look at you in real-time.” Iwaizumi huffs, “Crazy, I know. I was going fucking nuts.” Iwaizumi stands, and starts pacing, “And I know I could have just come back, I _knew_ you would have let me back in with no fucking hesitation,” he tugs at his hair, “but I also know that you would have pretended that you never kissed me, and I couldn’t have that.”

Oikawa wants to ask _why,_ but he doesn’t have to. Iwaizumi keeps talking. 

“I’ve waited _years_ for something like that to happen, and when it did I thought I was finally getting somewhere, but then,” his voice cracks, “then you pretended it was the subject of a joke.”

Oikawa’s eyes feel wet, his hands are shaking because of how tightly he's clenching them. He can feel pain in his jaw.

“Once you said it,” Iwaizumi stops to think, “I just felt so tired. I didn’t think you… felt… something for me before that, but the way you kissed me, and the way you got so nervous… after that I did.”

Iwaizumi sits on the floor, brings his knees to his chest, and buries his head in them. 

“Oikawa, I left because I couldn’t stand there and listen to you lie. You didn’t kiss me like that so you’d win a stupid game, you wouldn’t hurt me like that. I know it.”

Oikawa is holding in tears. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to.

“Oikawa, I know _you_ .” He brings his head up to look at Oikawa right in the eye. Oikawa, who is crying. “What I don’t know is why you _pretended_ you would.”

“I…” Oikawa starts, looking at Iwaizumi, who just nods. “I was scared. Halfway through kissing you, I pulled out my phone as a backup plan. I told myself that if it seemed that even for a _second_ you didn’t feel the same, I’d bail. I thought it’d be easier to do that than to admit I’ve been in love with you forever.”

Iwaizumi is smiling, “Forever, huh?”

Oikawa wipes his tears away but more spill out, “Forever.”

Iwaizumi is running at him before he can say _sorry._

“That’s all I fucking needed, you idiot,” Iwaizumi says into his shoulder, “I just needed you to tell me, that all, that’s _all_.”

“Why didn’t you come back, then? After the first week?” Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi pulls back, and for a minute Oikawa thinks he’s fucked up again, but Iwaizumi just smiles evilly, “Needed you to know you fucked up. And, hey, by the looks of this apartment, I think you got it.”

Oikawa leans into his chest, “So I could have just come and confessed my undying love to you a _week_ ago?”

“Yup.”

“Iwa, I cried on the phone with _Kageyama.”_

“Oh, I know,” Iwaizumi laughs, “he told me _all_ about it, spared no details. Said he wanted to be sure I was going to see you again because if he were wrong, you’d probably beat his ass.”

Oikawa groans, “That idiot.”

“Would you have? Beat his ass?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling Oikawa’s face up to look at him. 

“Oh yeah, totally,” Oikawa says without a smile, but he is laughing as soon as Iwaizumi smiles at him. 

After a while of hugging ( _Iwa, it’s been two weeks without you, I need to recharge),_ Iwaizumi says that they need to clean the apartment, which yeah, he’s completely right. Oikawa agrees but _begs_ for a shower first. Iwaizumi says that it’s fine, he can do that while Iwaizumi cleans up, but Oikawa says, _no, you sit in the bathroom while I shower, and then I can clean up!_

Oikawa doesn’t have the heart to tell Iwaizumi that he’s terrible at cleaning. 

“Hey,” Oikawa calls out as he’s shampooing his hair, “if you knew I was head over heels, peanut butter to my jelly, honey to my vinegar, birds to my bees—”

“ _Oikawa,”_ Iwaizumi says from the floor of the bathroom.

“ — in love with you,” Oikawa finishes, “then why didn’t _you_ confess to _me_?”

“I literally didn’t know until you kissed me.”

“Idiot, Iwa, Idiot!”

“Even if I did know, there's no way I would have made the first move on _Oikawa Tooru_ . I’m not wasting my talents on _you._ ”

“Talents, huh?” Oikawa opens the shower curtain enough to peek his head out, “Care to demonstrate?” 

“Oh, with _pleasure_ , sir,” Iwaizumi smirks as he pulls his shirt over his head and Oikawa bites his cheek to keep himself from squealing. 

**BONUS**

Iwaizumi, after two weeks, is standing outside his apartment door. 

With Hanamaki and Matsukawa behind him.

“Guys, seriously, _go home_ ,” Iwaizumi turns to face them.

“Hey! I won’t have you treat me like an Uber!” Hanamaki exclaims, ignoring the shushing he’s getting from Matsukawa.

“Uber drivers usually stay in the car. I’d say you’re more of a dog in this situation.”

“I’ll kill you,” Hanamaki says, and he goes to shout it once more when Iwaizumi starts reaching for the doorknob, but Matsukawa covers his mouth.

Hanamaki bites Matsukawa’s hand. 

“Just tell him you were the one that said we couldn’t see him, you demon. I still feel bad,” he says quietly.

“You were going to tell him that I was, one, planning to move out, and two, ready to see him after a week! We all agreed that I would go see him on my own terms!” Iwaizumi whisper yells.

“You bitch, I don’t care,” Hanamaki raises his voice, “my sweet Kawa, I’ll save yo—”

Matsukawa is hauling him back to the elevator with his hand over his mouth. Iwaizumi just laughs and turns the knob on the door.

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me if this was any good???? kudos very much appreciated :)


End file.
